A Matter of Knowing How
by Working-On-Sanity
Summary: Perry liked to think he was smart enough to talk if he tried. It was simply a matter of knowing how. But he decided not to try, because people who stopped to listen always understood him better. Hinted Doofenshmirtz/Perry.


**Note: **Result for the prompt "knowing how." This is more trippy than what I'd normally write, but this _is Phineas and Ferb._ Perry's gone to outer space and seen Doofenshmirtz in lederhosen. A talking plant probably shouldn't bother him much.

* * *

"Have you ever _won_dered what a plant would say if it could talk?"

Perry considered this innocent question. He decided that no, he hadn't ever wondered. In fact, the idea was entirely novel to him. Who would waste time on such a stupid idea?

Obviously, Doofenshmirtz believed this matter was quite important and the question worthy of further pursuit.

"Tell me, Perry the Platypus. Tell me. Haven't you ever wondered?"

Annoyed, Perry blew a gust of air into his cheeks, and reluctantly shook his head.

Doofenshmirtz rubbed his palms together with glee. "Well, today is your lucky day."

He swung his arms out, directing Perry's attention to a bulky mass of machinery that huddled beneath a canvas sheet. Doofenshmirtz wrapped his fists in the sheet and jerked it away with a flourish.

"Behold, my Speak-Your-Mind-Inator!" His grin hung in place, and he stared at Perry, almost as if expecting applause. When Perry only quirked his eyebrow, Doofenshmirtz faltered, then regained his composure.

"I know you're probably thinking, 'What is he doing? Why has he built this? What amazingly evil plan has he come up with?' Well––" Doofenshmirtz spread his large hands for emphasis––"now, I won't have to repeat questions that you are asking in your head. Because you'll be able to ask them yourself!"

Perry paused in his bored efforts to wriggle out of his handcuffs. His eyes widened. He blinked. Quickly he nodded toward the potted plant that sat innocently on the windowsill.

"What, that old––oh. Oh! Right. _That's _what I saying. Gee, I'm sorry, Perry the Platypus. Sometimes I just start _talk_ing, and I forget what I was going to say, and the conversation goes into a whole different direction. A few people have told me that forgetfulness is a sign of _a_ging, but I prefer to think of it as––"

Perry chattered sharply.

"Oh, um… I'm, uh, doing it again, aren't I?" Doofenshmirtz gave an awkward little laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. Clearing his throat, he again gestured to his -inator.

"Anyway, about the potted plant. You see, Perry the Platypus, this cute little plant––a Ficus, for your information––holds many, many de_lic_iouslyevil secrets. Now, back to the subject of my for_gett_ing things at times. Remember several schemes ago, when I couldn't figure out what 'big laundry' meant? Well, this plant was sitting on my windowsill the _entire_time. It heard every word I muttered to myself and saw every blueprint I slaved over."

Perry looked slightly unnerved. He glanced warily at the plant, which sat in its cracked terracotta pot. Rather enviously, Perry noticed that it was blissfully unaware. Perry rolled his eyes and resumed twisting out of the handcuffs. He decided not to bother with humoring Doofenshmirtz any longer, and effortlessly eased his wrists from the cuffs.

Sensing his audience was losing patience, Doofenshmirtz crouched in front of Perry. His shoes squeaked loudly over the slick concrete floor. Perry looked down in surprise, then back up with an accusing scowl.

"Get it, Perry the Platypus? This plant is practically my evil sidekick!" Doofenshmirtz stared earnestly at Perry, awaiting a reaction. "It _saw_, Perry the Platypus. If only it could talk, it could have reminded me of those scheme ideas before I managed to make myself look like an idiot."

Perry smashed a paw over his bill to hold in a laugh.

"Oh, _sure. _Laugh away, Perry the Platypus. Your cute little disparaging snickers will get you nowhere. You'll see. Just wait. As soon as I hit this plant with my -inator, it will spill every secret it has. All those incredible ideas that I thought had been lost for_ever _will be revealed! Ooh, I had better go get a notepad and a pencil…."

Perry watched Doofenshmirtz dance toward the bureau. Doofenshmirtz bent down, rummaging through the drawers in search of a large pad of paper. Pencils rolled over the bottom of the drawer, thumbtacks clicked about, and paperclips rattled.

Perry sighed. When Doofenshmirtz began to hum a familiar German folksong, Perry thrust one finger into his mouth in a pretense of gagging.

"What was that, Perry the Platypus?" Doofenshmirtz said, twisting to peer over his shoulder.

Perry whipped his paw to its place dangling by his side. He tilted his chin haughtily, as if he had never stooped to giving such a childish taunt.

Doofenshmirtz's eyebrows lowered and his forehead wrinkled. "Do you have something you want to tell me? 'Cause if you _do, _I would appreciate it if you would at _least _tell me to my face, instead of behind my back like everyone else does."

Perry lifted his skinny shoulders in a shrug.

"So it's that game, now, huh?" Armed with a notebook and a pencil reduced to a nub, Doofenshmirtz stalked to his -inator.

Perry smirked and licked the pad of his thumb before flicking back the brim of his fedora. His eyes traced the jagged contour of the machine, darting restlessly until his gaze fixed on a small red button. Perry instantly recognized the words that were printed above it: _self-destruct._

He shook his head. Doofenshmirtz always managed to wire in some sort of self-destruct mechanism to make Perry's job easier.

Stealthily, Perry dropped to all fours and crawled along the border of the wall. Doofenshmirtz stayed bent over the -inator, grumbling and twisting wires together. Sparks hissed, and Doofenshmirtz tore his hands away with an irate, "Oh, good grief!"

"Don't worry," he said vaguely. "I've almost got it. I _pro_bably should have fixed these be_fore _you came over."

He plucked at the machine's innards with growing frustration, leaning further into its metal shell. Perry squinted, calculating the distance between himself the -inator's antenna. With a muffled grunt, he began to race toward the protruding antenna, his paws pattering over the floor. Perry launched himself into the air, closing his fingers around the antenna and letting it support him as he dangled.

Doofenshmirtz glanced up at the racket. "Perry the Platypus, what are you doing? Get off! You're going to break that."

He lifted his leg over the -inator and stretched to swat at Perry. Gracefully, Perry swung from the antenna, somersaulting high above Doofenshmirtz's head. He landed heavily on the back of the -inator, grabbing at its slick surface to steady himself.

"Oh, come _on._" Doofenshmirtz grumbled while he climbed, clutching a lever on the -inator to keep himself balanced. He reached over to snatch at Perry, but Perry swiftly scrambled away.

"Perry the Platypus, can't you make this simpler for everyone and just hold_still_?"

The further Doofenshmirtz stretched, the more weight he pushed onto the lever. A loud creak snapped through the air. At the same time, Doofenshmirtz toppled to the floor with a shout, and a bright beam split from the muzzle of the -inator. Perry forgot to shield his eyes in his hurry to grab Doofenshmirtz's hand.

"Thank you, Perry the Platypus," said Doofenshmirtz as Perry hauled him to the top of the machine. He smiled gratefully and started to say something else, but was curtly interrupted by a whining nasally voice.

"Good _night! _That's the last thing I wanted to hear; you again. Golly. Do you _ever _get out of this musty dungeon? It's like you're in here jabbering to yourself twenty-four hours a day. No wonder you have all these pathetic backstories of failed relationships and lost friends. Trust me, if I had legs, I would have blown this joint ages ago."

Perry narrowed his eyes, a frown stretched over his face, and slowly turned.

The plant on the windowsill sat just as nonchalantly as ever. For a moment, Perry forgot his suspicion. He quickly looked around for the source of the voice. The plant's leaves began to stir wildly as the sour rant continued, and Perry felt a little frazzled all of a sudden.

"And you think you can 'take care of' this Perry-the-Platypus guy," said the plant. "I know what you mean, but honestly, 'take care of'? You don't know the first thing about care." The plant shook its leaves in disgust. "I've had to sit in this cramped thimble that you call a _pot_ for days on end without even_seeing_ a drop of water. Not so much as an iota. A molecule. Sometimes you forget to open the curtains and I have to stay in this dark rat-hole all day. You're about as parental as a sea turtle. I'm surprised you even remember to give Perry the Platypus a stinking scheme."

Perry glanced at Doofenshmirtz. Doofenshmirtz seemed entranced by his talking plant, his jaw slack.

The plant rustled disdainfully. "And, oh, I've heard enough about Perry the Platypus to fill a book. An encyclopedia. No––scratch that––a library. What is _up _with you and him? The way you ramble on about him and practice your sorry little speeches to him, a body'd think you're in love with the guy. And boy, have I had to listen to some _strange _things in my time. Let me think. What was it you said you would _love_ to do with Perry the Platypus if_only_ he would stop being such a pretentious stick-in-the-mud? Oh! I remember. It was––"

"_No_––I mean, do you hear that? I could swear that was the ice-cream truck!"

In one wild dive, Doofenshmirtz sailed toward the plant and leaned on tiptoe out the window in a most exaggerated way. He raised his hand to shield his eyes as if searching for something and his elbow, quite conveniently, grazed the plant's pot. It teetered, and toppled from the windowsill. Perry heard the air whistling through its leaves as it plummeted several stories down to the sidewalk.

The sound of the pot shattering against concrete was muffled by the wet soil.

Doofenshmirtz clung to the windowsill and stared out. "Oh, my. Did _I _do that? On _pur_pose? Oh, wait. Yes. Yes, I did. Evil!"

He swung around to face Perry, an awkward smile quirking the corner of his mouth. Perry stared at him flatly.

"Could you believe that, Perry the Platypus? Honestly, who on earth was stupid enough to think that a talking plant would be a good thing? Plants are full of it, Perry the Platypus. I advise you to never, ever buy a Ficus."

Nonchalantly, Doofenshmirtz strolled to the -inator and flipped the switch. When its motor ground to a stop, he reached in and ripped loose a handful of colorful wires. They coughed up sparks, and Doofenshmirtz dropped them. He clapped his hands together with an air of finality.

"Well, this has been a busy day," he said, his voice rising with honey-rich and very fake cheer. "Full of new experiences. I'm beat. Think I'll just, uh, go to bed, now. Perry the Platypus, if it's okay, could we just… you know… for_get _about all this?"

Perry nodded vehemently.

"Oh, good." Doofenshmirtz bent down, put his hand on Perry's shoulder, and steered him toward the door. Perry felt rather stunned.

"Thank you for dropping by," Doofenshmirtz said, pushing Perry gently outside into the hall. He crouched, glanced around, and smiled uneasily. In a stage whisper, he said, "Perry the Platypus, just between you and me––I'm glad you can't talk."

He stood up, brushed dust from his slacks, and shut the door. Perry was left gazing at the cat-flap.

As he trudged numbly down the hall, he decided that he too was glad he had made the decision not to talk. Of course, he was sure he _could _if he tried; it was all a matter of knowing how. And, he thought, maybe it was also a matter of wanting to know how.

Perry assured himself that he never wanted to know.

* * *

**Note: **I told you it was trippy.


End file.
